Convergence
by Llassah
Summary: As the Saviour of the Wizarding world is destroyed, one man tries to save both him and the future. And this time, he isn't playing by the rules...
1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape, Death Eater and spy, was cold, wet, and hungry. The rain had been falling for the whole of his solitary vigil, and, although he could have stopped himself getting wet with a simple spell, he chose not to, simply because he felt like it.

It was October 31st, 1981, and Severus Snape was going to do something he should have done years ago. He was going to kill Voldemort. And he wasn't doing it under orders. He was doing it because he wanted to. He was doing it because he could. To atone for reporting that thrice-damned prophecy that had meant that one of the people he hated most in the world was going to die, and the victory turned out not to be a victory at all. His thin lips turned up in a mirthless smile.

"I'm going to kill the Dark Lord, because I can." He whispered into the storm.

"Actually, you never will." An amused sounding voice came from behind him, and he pulled out his wand, a curse on his lips as he whirled around. No one there.

"Show yourself." He whispered, black eyes narrowed, trying to sense the presence.

"As you wish, Severus." The voice sounded…familiar, and yet not so. Did he know this…manifestation?

"Yes, you do. Better than anyone." Severus shut up his mind immediately, near-indefensible wards around himself.

"Show yourself." He commanded once more, the doubt and uncertainty in his mind making his voice shake slightly.

This time, the voice obeyed, and Severus found himself staring into the eyes of a man who wore his face. A man with unkempt black hair, sallow skin, a thin mouth and black eyes. Eyes that looked as if they had suffered greatly, skin with deep lines of pain and suffering etched into it, and an emaciated body, signs of bruises and scarring on the parts of him that weren't covered by black tattered robes. The only thing that hadn't been damaged or changed was the nose. Unconsciously, Snape moved his hand up to finger the bridge of his own nose, and the man smiled wryly.

"We never did grow into that nose. It never looked distinguished, or interesting, like in our foolish moments we hoped. But then, we did die at forty. It never had a chance to grace a wrinkled face."

"So what you're trying to tell me is that you are my ghost, who has travelled back a couple of decades."

The man nodded.

"When you could be any old idiot who can brew a half decent polyjuice and ageing potion and spout dire prophecies and melodramatic claptrap about my demise? Prove it."

Both men folded their arms and scowled at each other. _Well, the impostor has done his homework…_Severus thought, impressed against his will.

"Turn around and look at the bedroom window." The impostor commanded softly.

"There goes Lily." He said softly. Moments later, there was a flash of bright green light. Then there was another.

"There goes Voldemort." He gave a mocking salute, and Severus watched the window, startled. The flash of green light met a soft golden glow, and the window was filled with coalescing light, Severus felt the Dark Mark burning in an agony so great he dropped to his knees, and felt the defeat of Voldemort through his connection with an intensity that made him twitch on agonising convulsions.

"For now, at least. The old bastard will be back soon." When had he learnt to speak of him with such disrespect?

"Now you need to get the boy out before the house falls down. Chop chop, I haven't got all night."

Severus obeyed, half stumbling on knees weak with pain and shock, stepping over his one time enemy, who had died with a grim expression of determination, no trace of the arrogant bully of their schooldays.

"Sorry, Potter." He whispered, climbing the stairs two at a time, and going into the nursery. Lily's body was sprawled on the floor, her expression one of fierce tenderness, arm stretched out towards the cot in the middle of the room. There was a heap of ashes near to the cot, but Severus did not spare a glance for Voldemort, rushing instead to the baby, Harry James Potter, a baby who was unaware of what had transpired here, unknowing of what he would be known as. The son of his enemy. A child who stared at him with solemn green eyes, a child with a bleeding cut on his forehead. He scooped Harry Potter up and ran out of the room as the house began to rumble ominously.

He made it out just in time, and watched as the cottage crumpled to dust.

"Now do you believe me?"

Severus nodded. "Why are you here? What went wrong?"

-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Together they walked down the murky corridors of Azkaban to a cell in the deepest recesses of the prison.

"No Dementors." Severus whispered.

"They joined Voldemort. Potter managed to destroy all of them. Umbridge was not amused. She now runs the wizarding world with Fudge."

"Fuck." Severus breathed, aghast. Where were all the people who would stop them? What had gone wrong?

"So that's why Potter's in jail? Or did he lose?"

The man smiled bitterly and shook his head.

"He won, but used some pretty dark magic to do so. The Ministry have become completely anti-Dark, holding rallies and book-burnings. Anyone who would have pleaded his case is dead. The same went for me. So we were imprisoned for saving a world that turned out to have very little worth saving within it."

"So where are we now?"

"Oh, the final scene. We had to avoid the public hanging. It's a good thing you always carried those vials of poison around. There was enough for two."

The scene shifted once more, and they were within the cell. There on the floor, sitting side by side, was a man and a scrawny youth with bright green eyes and hair as tousled as James's had been.

Each held vials of a black liquid Severus remembered brewing when he became a spy. The most painless poison.

"A toast." The youth said, with the air of someone at a party.

"To us. The Darkest and most terrifying wizards ever to save the world. And to our generous hosts, who reward us with such sumptuous hospitality."

The man chuckled darkly.

"To us. May things turn out rather better next time. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

"Goodbye, Severus Snape. I wish you luck. It has been a delight knowing you."

Both smiled as if sharing some private joke, and knocked back the vials swiftly, shuddering at the taste. The youth leaned against the man, and the man put an arm around him. Each took a breath, and Severus watched as the man's life ebbed away. The youth stayed alive, though, and somehow, his eyes seemed to see him. Green eyes met his, and held, and with his last breath, he smiled and by some miracle, there was hope in his face. Tears trickled down Severus's face as he saw what he had been reduced to. But he had still died with a hero; both of them descended to nothing but dust and poison.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8

Severus was back in the clearing, holding the baby he had just seen himself die with, shuddering with the grief.

"What can be done? This has to be prevented." He said hoarsely, looking into the man's eyes imploringly.

"We discussed that, once we were done trying to kill each other. Yes, we didn't like each other for most of our acquaintance. From here, Harry goes to live with relatives who hate, neglect and mistreat him. You take up the teaching post, and become a bitter and malevolent recluse, haunted by the idea of Voldemort's return and the guilt of your past actions. You hate each other. But you need to work together, if you had joined, you would have been invincible, so much needless death could have been prevented."

"Where do I start?"

"Stop him from going to the Dursleys. Adopt him if needs be. Vouch for Black's innocence. Pettigrew was the Secret-Keeper, but tomorrow he will frame Black for the betrayal and murder. Black will go to Azkaban, and die in Potter's fifth year, partly as a result of our continuous goading of him. I know you hate Potter and his cronies, but for fucks sake, get over it. Now, close your eyes."

Severus obeyed, still numb from all the information. He felt a hand pressed to his forehead, and then Severus saw all that had happened, all of his mistakes, all his sins, and all that was done to him.

"Well, this is where I leave. Good luck. I only managed to gamble a short amount of time here. The Devil plays cards rather well."

And he was gone. Gone, leaving Severus stood in the clearing holding the boy who he would die with if the future didn't change.

At the sound of a motorbike's roar, Severus would have fled, leaving the baby for Black to find. He stayed. _It's time for things to start changing. _He thought grimly.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8

As Black neared the house, he dropped to his knees, head in hands, and howled, a sound that wrenched Severus's heart.

"All dead. James, Lily, and Harry. All my fault." He kept repeating to himself, tears mingling with the rain, face deadly pale, eyes grey and haunted. It was a man who was so far from the boy who had tormented Severus at Hogwarts, and Severus found his heart soften slightly towards him.

At that moment, Harry woke up and laughed happily. "Pa'foot" he cried out, little fist flailing about. Black looked up in shock, a smile breaking through the mask of grief. "How is he still alive?" he whispered as if to himself. It was as if he hadn't seen Severus, so intent were his eyes on Harry. But when he saw who was holding him, his eyes narrowed with hatred.

"Here to see your _master's _work, Snivellus? Here to gloat, to kill Harry? Is he going to be Death Eater sport for you now?"

He stood up and drew his wand. Severus kept his breathing steady, resisting the urge to hex the man's arse off for such comments. He didn't draw his wand.

"Hex me, by all means. How good is your aim? Would you risk hitting a child?" He asked mockingly, goading him. Black looked even angrier than before, his cheeks flushed red and the hand holding the wand shook with suppressed fury.

"Using Harry as a shield, now? You fucking coward! Trailing after your master, hiding behind him like you hid behind Malfoy at school! And now, you would hide behind the son of the man your master has killed."

"I. Have. No. Master. I never have, and I never will. I am here out of my own choice. Not to gloat, not because I am a coward, but because I wish to be here. And I do not hide behind Harry Potter. I do not hurt him, or seek to do him wrong. Does he cry? Is he upset? Children are wise, you know. They can judge intention better than most adults. Did he cry when you held him? No. Lupin? No. His parents? No. Pettigrew?" Severus watched as Sirius flinched at the mention of his name. "Yes. He probably did."

Surprise registered on Black's face. "How do you know about Pettigrew? Were you told? Did you laugh about what a tremendous joke it was, to have him betray me? I bet all your Death Eater friends were so damned happy."

"Don't swear in front of Harry. He'll pick up bad habits." Snape said, sounding, for a moment, uncannily like his grandmother.

"Sorry." Black apologized. Severus took a few seconds to wonder at manners being important at such a time, but ploughed on.

"I have only just found out about Pettigrew. I didn't know before.Now please. Just listen to what I have to say. I was here to kill Voldemort, or die trying. But now, I'm here to stop you from being carted off to Azkaban by Crouch and to stop Harry from spending the next seventeen years with relatives who hate him. It would be far easier to allow you to go after Pettigrew, for him to fake his own death, and for you to go to Azkaban. But I will testify in a court of law for you. Now that Harry has destroyed Voldemort-"

"Voldemort…gone? How?" His eyes were wide. "Destroyed by this little tyke?"

Severus smiled slightly. "Destroyed by this little tyke's mother." He commented dryly. "This one's time will come soon enough." He smiled at the boy he wanted to hate, but found he couldn't.

Sirius sat down suddenly. "The fight's over." He whispered to himself. No more Voldemort. The celebration that will happen tonight…The parties, the glory, the fireworks. And I cannot celebrate. My brother in all but blood is gone."

"His son isn't. And he needs you. He doesn't need his horsefaced aunt and brute of an uncle to try and stifle the magic he was born with out of him. Because that's what Dumbledore is going to make happen. He thinks Harry needs the blood protection of his mother's love for him. To keep Voldemort at bay. He needs real love. He needs a family." Severus had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Black to believe him now. "Hagrid will be here soon, as instructed by Dumbledore, to take him to Privet Drive where he will be left. So we stop him, wait until tomorrow evening, when Dumbledore will be expecting him, then we tell him that there is no way in hell that his plan will ever work." Severus was startled by the vehemence he heard in his own voice, but he did care about the fate of this child. He had found something he could do to redeem himself, and he was going to do it, whatever it took.

"You seem strangely concerned about the son of one of the men who bullied you." Sirius's eyes were not mocking or unkind, he sounded curious, and even…grateful to Severus.

"Yes. I am." He admitted quietly.

"This isn't going to be easy."

"Things seldom are, Black. For example, do you know anything about the care of babies?

Sirius smiled slightly. "We'll work something out. Or ask Remus. He knows most things." He said, standing up and holding out his arms for Harry, who chortled once more. "Pa'foot!" He repeated, almost stern.

Severus quirked an eyebrow, but didn't mock.

"Mama." He said, sounding sad. Sirius's shoulders shook once more. "Mama's gone, Harry. But she loves you very much still. We'll take care of you now." He whispered soothingly, tears sunning down his face. Severus felt his eyes prickle once more, and his voice when it came out was oddly choked.

"Hagrid's here now." He said softy, feeling like an intruder.

"Right then. Let's get this show on the road." Shaking himself in the doglike manner that Severus hadn't previously understood, Sirius walked over to the half-giant who was loudly weeping, head in his hands. Severus held back. He had no idea about the giving of comfort. Besides, he had done enough already. More than he had ever thought he could.

8-8-8-8

Privet Drive was the embodiment of everything Snape despised about the suburbs and the sort of muggles who tended to live there. Neatly trimmed hedges, manicured lawns, the tidiness of lives wasted with mowers and nail clippers.

Black must have sensed his disgust; he pulled himself out of his guilt-stricken reverie enough to comment "Give me a bit of good old-fashioned wilderness any day. There is no way Harry's going to grow up in this!"

He had agreed with Severus in that; both of them had had far from happy and loving childhoods, and for different reasons, both were keen to spare Harry of it. Sirius had needed that focus to stop him from chasing after Pettigrew for his betrayal and getting himself arrested. Severus had had to practically sit on him to stop him from seeking vengeance.

Dumbledore was stood at one of the drives with Minerva McGonagall. As Black parked the bike, Severus walked over, a sleeping Harry still held in his arms.

"I was surprised to see Hagrid arrive empty handed." Dumbledore said, a gentle rebuke in his voice. The twinkle in his eyes left to be replaced with ice, however, when Black walked over to them. Wordlessly, Black dropped to his knees and bowed his head in submission.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, get up!" Severus snapped, annoyed. All three turned to him, surprise written on their faces.

"Black switched places with Pettigrew as Secret-Keeper. Pettigrew was a traitorous rat in many ways, and divulged the location of the Potters to Voldemort" he said with exaggerated patience.

"The plan would have been a good one had Pettigrew not shown a boundless capacity for deception. So get up, Black, I'll be damned if I let you go to prison."

"How do you manage to be so infuriating even when you're doing the most noble thing I've ever seen anyone do? And why do you even care?" Black asked, wryly amused.

Severus smiled, feeling an exhilarating, irrational joy bubble up in his heart. He leaned against the lamppost, cradling Harry gently against his heart.

"Because I can." He said simply, turning his face up to the stars. He began to laugh, a sound he hadn't made in years. Perhaps this plan might just work…

A/N- Yes, it's another story. Redemption, Quickening and Convergence are three different examinations of Harry and Severus. They are sort of companions to each other, my reaction to the questions thrown up by HBP. This story will be from Snape's POV, and will take us through Harry's life up to Hogwarts. So yes, chaps, it's going to be a bit of an epic. I hope you like it.

Llassah

Xxx

P.S. I am going to complete all three stories, none of them will be abandoned.

P.P.S- Black and Snape's encounter has been rewritten, due to some reviews I recieved which were absolutely and utterly right. I thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

The flat Remus Lupinwas living in was tiny, a dingy little place off Knockturn Alley. Black's sigh was sad as he knocked on the door of the apartment. "We should have trusted him." He whispered, running a hand over his forehead. "I don't know if he'll forgive me for this. I don't know if _I'd _forgive me for this." Severus was tempted to tell him that Lupin would have done precisely the same thing if he were incarcerated, but didn't want to, and the presence of Dumbledore behind him was enough to make his mind up for sure. The door opened a crack.

"Speak." A sleep-filled voice came from the other side of the door. He saw who it was, and there was a momentary flinch, a flash of hurt, that Black noticed as well.

"Can we come in please?" he asked quietly, shifting from one foot to the other, every line of his body looking ready to flee.

"It's two o' clock in the bloody morning, Sirius! And why do you have Harry?" His tone wasn't as annoyed as his words though, and he opened the door and let them all in. He was wearing only his boxers, and when he saw that Dumbledore and Severus were there as well, he pulled on a dressing gown and indicated the sofa, not appearing at all surprised at the peculiar mix of people who were invading his home.

"Have a seat. It's bad news, isn't it." The werewolf spoke like someone who was resigned fully to the worst possible situations, and cognisant of his ability to soldier on anyway. Black stayed where he was, seemed unable to move, rooted to the spot. Severus went to him and held out his arms for Harry. Passing the now sleeping baby to him, Black bowed his head and clenched his fists, struggling against tears. Severus moved away and sat on the sofa, feeling like an intruder. Dumbledore was already sat down and when he saw the expression on Severus's face he smiled gently and patted his shoulder.

Across the room, Lupin crossed the room to face Black, who whispered something to him. He bowed his head and swayed on the spot, face pale. They collapsed on to the floor in each other's arms and just cried quietly, each taking comfort from the other. Severus felt cold, very cold suddenly, and alone. He had never had a friend. He had never had anyone to comfort him. Absently he looked down at Harry, sleeping and innocent of what had happened here, with no knowledge of what a cold harsh place the world could be, and felt the urge to shield him from it, all of it, or at least give him the strength to survive it better than he had.

Black and Lupin were still talking quietly, and Dumbledore had slipped into a light doze. Severus supposed he could use the sleep, but he didn't want it really. Too much had happened. He had gained twenty years of life and experience in a matter of seconds and felt so…old. He wasn't the angry schoolboy now, or the irritable young potions master. He wasn't even the embittered, disappointed man who had died in that cold and lightless cell. He was…different, and it confused him. He had the knowledge of spells, potions, advances in magic, things that would happen…

"The Order, Aurors. The Death Eaters are still at large…We need more security, if any of them want information, they will torture for it. And the Longbottoms. Monitor them, please. Don't ask how I know, I just do." Dumbledore nodded.

"Until all the Death Eaters are rounded up, The Order can stay at Hogwarts." He looked at Severus for a long time, seeming as if he knew at least some of what Severus knew. It shook Severus, to know that he had killed this man. So many deaths, and injuries…Frank and Alice, dead-eyed on the beds in St. Mungo's. Their son, Neville, a stammering little boy, scared of his own shadow, a reminder of his failure to spy properly, a reminder of their staring glassy eyes…Killed by Voldemort as he distracted him from the wounded Potter. Died more heroically than many, cleverer wizards had ever lived. He sighed, and ran a hand over his forehead. He was troubled by the weight of their past and future lives, like fitting shapes into a jigsaw puzzle that shifted and changed with every word he spoke, currents shifting around as he, by his very existence, changed things.

Harry shifted and opened sleepy eyes. He blinked, once and nestled closer to Severus, and, with a little yawn, went back to sleep. "I had expected him to be noisier than this." Severus commented quietly, a bemused expression on his face. Dumbledore chuckled.

"He's generally a pretty well-behaved baby." Lupin said, standing in front of him, face pale, eyes red-rimmed, but calm. "And he seems to like you."

Severus smiled wryly. "I hope he never talks to my potions classes" he commented, making Black laugh from the floor.

"I shall pretend I never heard that." Dumbledore suddenly seemed remarkably interested in the pattern of the sofa.

"So what's going to happen to Harry then?" Lupin asked, looking fondly at the sleeping baby.

"I'm his guardian. Although I'm hardly old enough to be able to look after a baby on my own. Severus is going to help me, and you as well, if you will." Sirius made puppy-dog eyes at Lupin from his position on the floor.

"This is no fit place to bring up a child, Sirius. This is no place for Harry. And how do you think the Ministry will react, a filthy half-breed with the care of the saviour of the wizarding world?" Lupin smiled bitterly, and Severus wondered how many jobs he had been turned away from, how much prejudice he faced, and how much fear and contempt he himself had felt for Lupin after the Shrieking Shack. He needed Lupin to help; the man would be a calming influence on Black, able to deal with his mood swings and anger far more than Severus could.

"If they did let you have care of Harry, and if you had a bigger house, would you?" He asked, hoping that Lupin would be able to read the lack of mockery in his face.

"I would love to." Lupin answered simply, tears in his eyes as he looked at the son of his two dead friends.

"There you go then. Sorted. Harry will have us as role models, Merlin help him." Sirius grinned happily at Lupin, and then, to his surprise, at Severus.

"Now, let's talk about all of the boring technical details."

8-8-8-8-8-8

Severus was in the middle of breakfast in the Great Hall when the Aurors came to take him. They marched up to the head table, ostentatious in their manner, obviously expecting a fight. There were no Order Aurors there, no familiar faces, and they must have heard of his duelling skill. Five men to take down one. He assessed them, and found them wanting. He could have easily dealt with them, but he chose not to. Standing up calmly, he handed his wand to Dumbledore, who looked sadly at him, and murmured that he would sort this out, and told him not to worry, strode, straight-backed and proud up to where they were standing, and allowed himself to be led away.

Severus didn't fight once. Even when one of the Aurors waited until all the others were gone, locked the door of his cell, tied his hands behind his back and proceeded to methodically beat him, taking care not to mark his face. Severus stayed silent, just staring deep into the man's eyes, letting every bit of contempt for him show.

It was as if he were a boy again, lying on the floor, ribs throbbing with pain, breathing hoarse in the heavy silence, waiting there for more pain. Scenes flitted across his memory, his father, taciturn but with a gift for cruelty, the muggle war destroying the man he had once been, until all he could do was drink... His mother, worn and thin looking, pleading with him to leave the boy alone…. The first time he had looked in the book of Dark hexes and resolved that he would never ever let anyone bully him again…His eyes rapt, staring at all the curses, with a hunger for knowledge, a quick mind…The discovery that it didn't really matter; for all of his learning, he was still bullied…Awkward, gangly, defiant, standing outside the Headmaster's office for fighting…taking the Mark, gaining power with his gifts, and discovering he was just another victim really…Standing outside the Headmaster's office in Death Eater robes, and giving himself to Dumbledore, mind, body and soul, to do with as he pleased…The tortures when he failed, the cruciatus curse, when The Dark Lord had felt like punishing, the killings, rapes, beatings…He had watched, and he had condemned by watching…

The man left, the door closed.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

The shackles clamped around his wrists, and Severus felt his pulse quicken with a panic he couldn't suppress. He didn't look at the people who were in the courtroom. They all seemed to be ministry cronies, none of the Order were there. No one who would wish him anything other than harm.

Crouch was chairing the trials. He gave Severus a glare of contempt that he returned tenfold. He was shackled, friendless, bruised, but he still had pride. There were murmurs as they stared each other down. Crouch lost the battle, looking hastily at his notes, seeming angrier, but shaken.

"Severus Snape, you are accused of being a follower of He-who-must-not-be-named and a known Death Eater, and, moreover, participation fully in the murders and tortures committed in the years before his defeat. How do you plead?"

"I admit that for a time, I did follow Voldemort," He began, relishing the gasps from the assembled wizards.

"I repented, though, and became a spy for Albus Dumbledore."

The courtroom erupted in uproar, jeers of disbelief, outraged exclamations, their faces angry, and ugly mob that would rip him to pieces. How could these wizards say that they were better than Death Eaters, when they were governed by the same impulses, the same urges? They would go home, and rest safe in their smug superiority, hypocrites, more destructive in many ways than Voldemort was. Where was Dumbledore? They must have kept the trial a secret, must have known that he was a spy, must have wanted to keep him from Harry Potter so he wouldn't influence him away from them. _There are ways to hide a man in Azkaban, lost among the dank corridors, alone to howl out his misery till death comes and releases him…_

"But no one else knew about your status as a spy. How are we meant to believe this preposterous nonsense?"

"The beauty of a spy is that no one else knows about their role. I am hardly going to be making announcements to The Daily Prophet about it, am I?" He spat back, annoyed beyond belief. His situation was hopeless…One last try…

"I suggest that you call Albus Dumbledore to vouch for me."

Crouch sneered. He had been made to look small by Severus, and wasn't going to let that go.

"It is not for the criminal to dictate the terms of the trial, scum! I call the first witness for the prosecution."

Severus sat back, numbed. Why was this going so differently? He was going to Azkaban! But Harry would- He would never see Harry again, he might be Kissed, Dumbledore would feel the weight of his failure, it would set the Order at odds with the Ministry…

He closed his eyes. He had to reach Dumbledore. He searched out with his mind, washing through the currents and ebbs of other minds, other wizards, until he found him, a fortress so strong, so impenetrable that Severus could dash himself against the walls and Dumbledore wouldn't feel a thing. He called out to him.

"Albus." Nothing.

"Albus!" Still nothing, and Severus could feel the connection waver, begin to crumble.

"ALBUS!" He shouted, pouring all of his remaining strength through the bond, all his hopes, fear, anything he could throw. It was too much. He slumped against his chair in a dead faint.

8-8-8-8-8-8

"Look at those bruises, Moony! Those bastards, they cracked his ribs, I can see a bootprint there! When I get hold of whoever it was, I'll-"

"Do nothing." Severus croaked, and opened one eye to glare at Black fiercely. He looked surprised.

"You don't want revenge? He beat you!"

"Thank you. Worse has been done to me, Black. I will not have you losing your status as Harry's guardian in this. And my revenge will be more subtle and untraceable, like, say, an impotence potion, or hair loss powder. More damage, and no one can blame me."

Black winced. "Glad you're back, Severus." He said with a grin. "You had us worried about your mental faculties, but you're still as twisted and devious as before. But, erm, don't be offended if I never drink your tea…"

Severus smiled slightly, a wicked spark coming into his eyes. "Or use toothpaste, or…"

He trailed off, relishing Black's look of utter terror, exchanging amused glances with Lupin.

"Ah, Severus dear boy, I'm so glad to see you're awake. We were worried about you, Sirius wore a hole in the carpet pacing."

Severus smiled slightly, touched.

"Where's Harry?" He asked to distract Black from muttering and blushing. Dumbledore smiled into his beard, eyes twinkling merrily. "He is currently being worshipped by the Hogwarts staff. He's being cooed over by the women, and bets on his Quidditch talents are already being placed by the men. And Trelawney claims her inner eye is fogged with regards to his future."

Black and Lupin sniggered, having met the 'seer' at a party, but Severus sat back, thoughtful.

"Cooed over by women, eh? He'll go far." Black remarked with a grin.

"Merlin spare the women of Hogwarts if you teach him all you know!" Lupin said fervently, making Severus smirk as Black assumed a look of injured innocence.

"You don't believe I might be such an immoral influence, do you, Headmaster?" He asked plaintively, eyes wide, lip quivering.

"There is no 'might' about it, Mister Black." Dumbledore said calmly, making both Lupin and Severus laugh at the appalled expression on Black's face. _So this is what having friends is like._ Severus mused.

"Severus, how are your injuries?" Dumbledore asked, expression more sombre.

"They'll be healed by tomorrow" Severus said dismissively to dispel the look of worry on the old man's face.

"And the Auror who abused his position? I assume you will be seeking some form of revenge?"

Severus kept his face neutral and stayed silent.

"Out of the question." Dumbledore said adamantly.

Severus scowled blackly at Dumbledore.

"Why not?" He growled. "It is within my rights."

"He will be disciplined anyway."

"By the ministry? Ha! He'll be given a sodding pay rise!" He sneered, fists clenched around the bedcovers. Black looked mutinous as well.

"One of the reasons I was able to get them to allow you guardianship of Harry is that I impressed the ethical ramifications of the beatings of prisoners."

Guardian of Harry! He could have conjured a Patronus at that, his heart thudded in his chest, hurting his ribs, and he smiled slightly.

"You blackmailed them." He accused, grudgingly understanding his reasoning. "I will not seek revenge. But if I have my wand, and he gives me cause to do so, I shall not hesitate to give him a great deal to think about. That is all I can in all honesty promise you, sir."

Dumbledore patted his hand. "Good, dear boy. That is all I can ask of you."

Severus consigned his thoughts of pounding the Auror into the dirt into the realm of happy fantasy.

"So, how much wild gossip is circulating about my somewhat public capture?"

Black sniggered, making Severus wonder what humiliation he would have to endure.

"You are, I believe, something of a hero, especially among the female population of the school." Dumbledore said with an utterly straight face.

Severus's swearing was muffled by his putting his head in his hands, but Black made no effort to restrain his barks of laughter.

"Joy. I now have to contend with hormonal underage females as well as idiots who can't tell a cauldron from a desk. So my cover as a spy is well and truly blown?"

"Irrevocably so. I am sorry, dear boy. I deemed it better to utterly quash your Death Eater status." His eyes were sad, he looked old and tired suddenly. They could all use a holiday really.

Severus's shoulders sagged in relief. No more playacting. "Thank you." He whispered, the freedom stretching out before him. "No more pandering to spoilt brats with Dark connections, now I can treat them all equally."

"So now they're all stupid?" Black asked with a knowing look in his eyes.

"Precisely." He smirked. "So when is the hearing?"

"This afternoon." Lupin said with a grimace.

Severus swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, swaying slightly as his still-unsteady head protested.

"We leave after lunch?" He asked as he picked up his wand and put the robe hung up on.

Black looked surprised. "I hadn't expected you to come, you're still weak…"

"I attend." Severus said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"I'm going to get washed and dressed. May as well make a good impression. I will see you in the Great Hall."

When they couldn't see him, he leaned against the wall for support, glad the students were at lunch. He was weaker than he had thought, his mind was unable to focus, and he felt fragmented.

Once he was in his quarters, he poured himself a generous measure of pepper-up potion, not liking the tremors in his hands, and downed it in one. He felt it surge through his veins as he stood, hands pressed onto his worktop, eyes closed. His quarters were Spartan, no photographs, no traces of his personality. It was just a room where he had spent many lonely hours lost in remorse and bitterness. Now, he wanted it to look homely and comforting. He would ask someone for help decorating, now that his life expectancy was slightly longer than until Voldemort found out.

Showered and dressed, Severus looked in his battered old mirror, assessing each feature dispassionately. Eyes: Black, lonely, lost, but with a spark of hope within them that he hadn't felt since he received his Hogwarts letter. Face: Too thin, too sharp, angular cheekbones making him look almost alien. Nose: The bane of his existence, but there was nothing to be done about that. Hair: Washed, and he was damned if he would ever let it get greasy again, now he didn't have to look repulsive. He wasn't handsome, like Black. But he wasn't ugly either. He was just…him. And there were worse things to be than himself. Feeling better, he went to find Black and Lupin. They had a hearing to win…

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

Severus growled quietly in frustration, as that bitch who was chairing the hearing proceeded to make Remus Lupin look like a cross between an imbecile and a dangerous monster. Dolores Umbridge was a woman he had never encountered before, but he hated her already. She spoke slowly to Lupin, as if he were stupid, in a sweet honeyed voice, and seemed to be the embodiment of every one of the wizarding world's prejudices.

"Mealy-mouthed bitch" he murmured to Black, who nodded in reply. The toadlike woman looked around in the direction of the voice, eyes narrowed slightly in displeasure.

"Hem hem! Was there anything you wished to contribute?" she asked, smile stretching even more. Severus found himself answering with a slow smile that anyone who knew him would have told her spelt Trouble.

"Ah yes, thank you ma'am. If the court would perhaps allow me to ask Miss Umbridge a few questions?" He asked, ignoring Black's frown. The wizards on the panel nodded, those who weren't dozing or doing the crossword. Severus stood up and strolled over to the table of panellists, an almost affable expression on his face.

"Would you mind telling the panel what your precise objections to Mr. Remus Lupin's guardianship of Harry Potter are please?"

The look of slight apprehension on her face had gone, and she was smiling in a very smug way. Black had his head in his hands, and Severus was sure that he was planning some form of revenge for playing so obviously into her trap, but then, neither of them knew him enough.

"Well, he turns into a vicious beast at full moon." She said, with the air of someone smugly stating the obvious. Several members of the panel tittered.

"So that is all that you object to."

Black raised his head, a slow smile beginning to light up his face. Lupin raised an eyebrow at Snape, who schooled his features from betraying his triumph, as Umbridge rolled her eyes for the benefit of the court, and snippily replied

"Yes, isn't that enough?"

"Of course, ma'am." He inclined his head graciously, and made a show of pacing up and down the room, considering what he was going to say next. He paused, and looked straight at her.

"So, if Mr. Remus Lupin did not turn into a, how did you put it? Ah yes, a 'vicious beast' at full moon, if he were somehow able to maintain his human restraint during his transformation, then you would be fully willing to allow him to adopt?"

Umbridge's face as she realised that she had somehow been trapped was one to put in his penseive. She couldn't work out how, but she knew she'd been had, and she couldn't contradict herself now, at the risk of undermining her previous case.

"Yes." She answered, none of the girlish sweetness in her voice now.

"How fortunate, then, that a potion that will render a werewolf harmless during the full moon is currently in its final stages of development. Once it is complete, there cannot possibly be any objections to Mr. Remus Lupin's guardianship of Harry Potter."

She went white, then red. Black looked as if he wanted to kiss him, and Lupin looked like he couldn't quite believe what was happening. Finally, the rug pulled well and truly from under her feet, Umbridge answered "Yes" as if the word made her sick. The other panel members nodded in agreement, and the courtroom cleared, leaving Severus, Black, Lupin and Dumbledore in the room. Severus was pretty glad that the alternative version of himself had researched the Wolfsbane potion; he knew how to make it already. He sunk down into a chair, relieved. It had been such a tough week.

"Severus."

"Yes?" He asked lazily, feeling the pepper-up potions effects wear off.

"I love you, and I want to have your babies." Black said seriously and, unable to contain his exuberance, hugged the surprised Severus, toppling them both onto the floor.

"Please. Shouldn't we at least get to know each other first?" He asked, wincing at the pain in his ribs. Black just laughed and ruffled his hair. They had actually bloody done it.

"How on earth did I manage to get away with that?" He wondered out loud.

"Does it matter? You did." Remus said, tears running down his face. "And I can never thank you enough for it. You're a true friend."

Somehow, Severus knew that everything was going to turn out just fine.

A/N- For lo, I have been using the hp Lexicon to get the timing right on this little (ha!) chapter right, but any plot chronology errors you see, please nitpick! Hope you enjoy, thank you to my review people. Ooh, and in the first chapter, if you read it before I added a bit to Snape and Black's encounter, it might make a bit more sense to you now. Winter's coming! Wahoo!

Llassah

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	3. Chapter 3

The unofficial headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix turned out to be Hogwarts. After Severus had warned Dumbledore about possible attacks on Aurors and order members, he had opened up one of the guest towers, and whole families were staying there, all with one thing in common: Voldemort, and now his followers wanted them killed. To Severus, he had succeeded. Every person in this room was dead. He had seen them die with his own eyes. Some he had allowed to, some he had tried to save. Old wounds of grief and guilt he had buried under the surface, away from memory. He sat in the corner of the communal area wishing he could drink something other than tea, trying not to attract attention. The hand gripping the saucer shook until the cup clattered; the other hand was clutched convulsively around the arm of the chair.

"Severus? You look like you've seen a ghost! What's the matter dear?" Molly looked concerned; she was concerned enough to risk his scowl at her use of 'dear'. Severus's shakes increased as he remembered the mother howling with the grief that the loss of every one of her children had brought.

"I am seeing them" he whispered. Ignoring her pleas for explanation, Severus stood and walked out of the room, then broke into a run, long legs flying as he tried to escape that past that had inextricably wound itself around the future. He ran until he tripped and fell, then lay there, the sound of his breaths hoarse in the silence of the corridor.

"Take it back," he whispered to the man he would become.

"Let me die in ignorance in Azkaban. It would be better than this. I can't take it. Just take this accursed knowledge away!" His voice cracked on the last word, and he subsided into sobs that wracked his still sore ribs, sending pain lancing through to his spine.

"What's the matter? Can't take a little learning?" His future self, the man he called Snape in his mind, was standing leant against the wall.

"But we gave our soul to Voldemort for knowledge once. Thought it was worth everything." Snape sounded harsh, self-mocking.

"It isn't. I see death when I'm meant to see a face. Please. I beg of you. Take it away."

"I can't. You've changed things too much. You've made your own world here now. Just because you're too cowardly to go through with what you set out to do…"

"Damn you." Severus wanted to hurt him, to scratch, bite, gouge, cause pain. He stood up, fists clenched, glaring, but Snape seemed unconcerned. When Severus made a lunge for him, he dodged him easily and swung him round so he was up against the wall, Snape's hand exerting light pressure on his throat.

"Too late for your wishes, boy. Now grow up. You can cope. We can always cope. Endure. Accept. Sacrifice. Because you don't want to end up in that cell in Azkaban, where a vial of poison suddenly seems like a close friend."

"I didn't know you had a brother." Sirius had come around the corner, and was regarding Snape with a faintly threatening expression on his face.

"You can see him?" Severus asked as Snape released his throat. Sirius let out a short bark of laughter. "You know, insane people aren't meant to know that their visions aren't real. So who is he? I'm curious."

"So are we." Remus and Dumbledore were here now, Harry in tow being carried on Remus's shoulders. Both were looking from him to Snape, and Severus didn't have a clue of how the hell he was going to explain any of this to them. Snape, he noticed, was showing some emotion, a pain that would not be hidden. "Dead." He whispered softly so only Severus could hear him. Severus felt the overwhelming urge to laugh. This was too much! What could he tell them? He gave an inarticulate moan and sank back to the floor.

"Pitiful. Knees give at the slightest provocation. Well, as Severus here seems incapable of answering, I am Severus Snape."

Sirius scoffed. "I'm Napoleon. Pleased to meet you."

Snape glared coldly, drawing himself up so that his half a head's advantage on Sirius could be seen. "As ever, Black, your opinion means very little in the grand scheme of things."

Sirius took a deep calming breath. "Severus, who is he? Apart from obnoxious."

Severus gave a laugh, then buried his head in his hands. Would he go to Azkaban for killing Sirius if Snape did it? "He's me, about twenty years down the line."

Snape sneered slightly, leaning against the wall and drawling "So, Napoleon, are you going to listen to me now?"

Any fighting was brought to a halt by Dumbledore. "Gentlemen, stop this at once. We are going up to my office to sort this out. Until then, neither of you are going to speak. Severus, can you walk?"

Severus vaguely waved a hand in assent, but found himself being scooped up by Snape and carried easily through the corridors. "I understand now, little one. I see that it's a strain, having to look at them. I apologise for having done this to you. But I'll tell them what's going on, and we'll sort something out. Just stay awake for a few hours more."

Once they were at the headmaster's office, Snape lowered Severus onto the chair and smoothed the hair from his forehead gently. He stopped abruptly when he saw Remus watching him and sat down in one of the seats, gazing around the office, as if memorising how it looked. _Hogwarts had been a ruin last time he had been there_, Snape realised with a jolt.

"Please explain who you are and why you are here."

Dumbledore sounded as calm as ever; the presence of two versions of the same man didn't seem to make him lose his sense of benign authority. He was wonderfully familiar; he made Severus feel as if he could make everything all right just by being there.

Snape leaned back and looked up at the ceiling as if deciding how to word his explanation.

"You are aware of the divergence theory?"

Dumbledore nodded, and explained for Sirius and Remus's benefit.

"Certain events having a pivotal effect on the future, with any alterations to these events having power over the overall outcome."

Snape nodded. "Correct. Now, October 31st was a pivotal time during which there was an endless unfolding of different possibilities, each created by a different set of circumstance. And I was created by one set of circumstances and actions. They turned out to be a rather cataclysmic set of circumstances really."

"How cataclysmic?"

"Every person in this room dies. The Order are wiped out. There is a return to the witch-hunts. Umbridge has the wizarding world in an iron grip"

Snape's eyes were haunted, and Severus could see Sirius grow pale. Remus tightened his hold on Harry in his lap. Sirius cleard his throat.

"Azkaban. I went there? When Severus stopped me this time?"

Snape nodded. "Ten points to Gryffindor" he said with a grim smile. "Pettigrew gets away with it, and frames you. For twelve years you were imprisoned, sustained only by your hate. You escaped, found your way to Potter, and died two years later.

"How?" He asked hoarsely.

"Protecting him. You fell through a curtain."

"Out of a window?" Sirius looked torn between amusement and horror.

"Through a portal into another world. You tripped, having evaded the Ministry's best Aurors for all of that time. The notorious Sirius Black, defeated by upholstery."

Snape's voice held an insulting lilt to it that made Sirius look sharply at him. "This gave you a cheap laugh?"

"I am not a nice man,Black. I am fuelled by hatred and bitterness, deprived of the revenge I wanted against you and James, forced to spy, taking refuge in the malicious thrill that the demise of those who bullied me in my youth gave me. I lived my life completely wrong. And that, among with other mistakes we all made, meant that by the time Potter had saved the wizarding world, it didn't seem worth the bother. And so" Snape seemed to shake himself out of his brooding, and fixed his eyes once more on Dumbledore "I made a deal once I was dead. This deal gave mecertain timesof my choosing, to make myself known to the person of my choosing. And because I am naturally the most intelligent wizard I know, I spoke to sleeping beauty over there." Severus made a halfhearted rude gesture at him, and settled back into just listening.

"I showed him everything that had passed through my eyes. He saw the demise of the Order, our capture, our death. He sees corpses where healthy people stand. Iwas unfair on him. It's such a burden for one man. If you performed a memory charm, then perhaps…" All traces of sarcasm had gone from his voice, and Severus could only see concern in his face, and deep weariness that no sleep could ever cure.

"No." he said, startled from his comfy drowse. "I will cope. I have to. I am not going to fail. It will be hard, yes, but I _will_ do what I set out to. I must."

Sirius looked at Severus with dawning realisation.

"So on the night James and Lily died, you had seen all of this. You had lived out your life, and were fresh from that. And I accused you, mocked you, threatened you, didn't listen to you."

Severus nodded.

"Yet you continued to help me. You allowed me to do this. Well, had our roles been reversed, I think I would have decked you." He admitted candidly.

"It was tempting." Severus said with wry understatement. Sirius fidgeted uncomfortably.

"And you have been living with this knowledge since then, enduring Azkaban, and the trials, seeing those people."

Once more, Severus nodded.

"And you didn't come for help? You stubborn idiot!"

"What Sirius is trying to say, I think, is that you shouldn't be afraid to ask us for help. We work together on this one. And now that we know what's been going on we'll do our best by you."

Remus's eyes glowed with a soft golden light, and Severus couldn't quite meet them without feeling a lump in his throat. Snape saw this, and came over to the chair where he was sitting, sat on the arm of the chair, and bundled him into his arms, stroking the back of his neck in a way that had always calmed him, making him feel sleepy and heavy-limbed.

"Well, my little rutabaga, you need to get some sleep now. Don't argue. You're safe with me."

The last thing Severus saw before he drifted off was his face, older, more lined, but wise and filled with the tenderness he was beginning to feel for Harry. _It might be enough to get us through this…_

_8-8-8-8-8_

Snape sat by Severus's bedside. The younger man was sleeping soundly, and the room was empty. He leaned back in the chair, enjoying the small creaks Hogwarts made, the rumbles that could be heard at the time when the castle slumbered.

"Five more to go."

Snape turned round, annoyed. A handsome man of medium height with brown hair and blue eyes, stood there leaning against the wall. "You're back. Our agreement was that you stayed away from him."

The man smiled slightly and shrugged.

"He'll stay sleeping, don't you worry."

Snape glared at him. "He had better." He snarled, menace in every line of his body.

"I'm curious. You threaten me, yet what could you possibly do to me?"

Snape's eyes were black, his gaze flat. "Try me."

The man smiled almost affectionately. "You really have no sense. You're going to be under my control for the rest of eternity, and you challenge me now?"

It was Snape's turn to shrug. "I have until the defeat of Voldemort to remain. Five more visits to Severus. A lot can happen in that time."

The threat hung there.

The man reached out a hand, and caressed Snape's face. He didn't move, showed no signs of discomfort. The man traced a thumb over his lower lip, noting how Snape's breath quickened.

"You will be mine." He whispered, amused at the low groan Snape couldn't contain. "You begged for this. Didn't you?"

Snape nodded. "Yes. I did. That doesn't mean I will welcome the payment I have to make."

The man stepped closer to Snape, eyes filled with temptation

"Hell is not such a terrible place. You may prosper there." He whispered seductively.

Snape laughed bitterly. "I've had my little taste of hell. I sought it once."

"And now, you seek it for good, not for ill. Isn't irony a marvellous thing?" The man chuckled at his own joke.

Snape scowled, and disappeared in a lick of flame.

The man stood by Severus's bedside. "Little one, if you knew what he was giving up for you…" Hewatched the sleeping man,face in repose filled with something that was almost sadness.Severus slept on until morning.

A/N Is Satan an OC? Hee hee, I hope this explained a bit more about what's going on here.

About the Snape/ Severus thing, I just found it easier than writing 'his not-so-future self' every single time. I hope I didn't make any slip ups in this.

Barbarataku: You assume that I actually rely on reviews in order to write, which of course explains why I have filled notebooks with all of my stories, and write chapters in advance with plotlines decided now, not when I have a certain number of reviews. I am continuing with all of the stories,please believe me when I say this. If it seems that I do not update very often, it is because of a rather nasty thing called 'real life', which, alas, must intrude occasionally meaning that I have to study for my future. And why on earth would I cry about a lack of inspiration? I have no muse as such; I don't work in a certain way, I'm not temperamental, and believe in hard work, rather than thunderbolts of inspiration shooting down from the sky. So why is it that you seem intent upon accusing me of abandoning my stories, flitting like a butterfly between them? I cannot trot out chapters first time off, as perfect as they can possibly be. I write, and half of the stuff I scribble down, I reject. Then I write it again, editing once more as I go. And maybe I am disappointed with the lack of reviews for this fic. That does not mean that I am going to throw a hissy fit and storm off. It means that I am going to keep on writing, making it the best I possibly can, and hope people enjoy it even though they don't review. And if you're so sure that I'm going to quit this story writing lark, why don't you go and review every little bit I've written on ffnet.Prevent it. Make my sodding day.Don't make sarcastic comments just because I am trying something new writing wise.

My apologies if you weren't being a patronising idiot on purpose, but I resent the tone of your review.

Artemis MoonClaw: Spoilt? With Snape as surrogate father? Ha! Thank you for the reviews!

Rose J Lupin: Hmm, well, what about Fenrir's eye colour? Is there anything remarkable about that? I think he probably does have amber or honey coloured eyes naturally, I just love that colour of eyes. It's so warm and lovely! dissolves into pile of fangirl-style mush

DebsTheSnapeFanNow, Lady Gallatea Ravenclaw, thank you very much for your reviews.

Llassah

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	4. Chapter 4

His class was silent as he swept into the room. The were fifth year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors; they had seen him as a student, as a Death Eater, then later as a spy hailed as a hero, and they were completely off-balance. They didn't know what he would do, what he would be like, how he had changed. There was the potential to be absolutely anything to them, and for a few moments, Severus felt the urge to become even more of a sarcastic bastard than he had been before. It was tempting…

All eyes were fixed to the blackboard, avoiding his gaze. Instead of standing at the teaching platform, he leaned against his desk, informal.

"Today, we are going to talk about substitution. Would any of you bright sparks like to hazard a guess as to what that is?"

No one moved. They all avoided catching his eye. He resisted the urge to laugh at their discomfort.

"You. In the back row. Miss Smith." He singled out a shy Hufflepuff girl who blushed, ducked her head and mumbled an answer.

He sighed. "Miss Smith, I'm sure the desk already knows the answer. Apparently, your classmates do not. Speak up, please."

Instead of sinking further into her slump, she straightened up, cheeks still burning, and spoke up clearly. _At last. Some backbone._ Severus thought, pleased.

"Using an alternative ingredient in a potion, sir?"

"Are you asking me, or telling me?"

She pondered for a few moments. Severus gave her no clue. _Go on. Have some conviction, girl._

"Telling you, sir."

"Correct. A point to Hufflepuff."

He had never expected to say those words, and by the sounds of it, the students hadn't either. The expression of fear had been replaced with bewilderment, as the blatant favouritism Severus had always exhibited to his own house seemed to be gone. Severus would bloody miss the malicious pleasure he got from unfairly removing points, though…It almost used to make him smile. Still, he could find new and interesting ways to scare people.

"Now, substitution will produce an inferior potion, but when one does not have and ingredient, it is sometimes necessary. So, what things should one consider when substituting?"

Three hands were raised, one of whom was a younger Kingsley Shacklebolt. Severus nodded to him.

"You need to check that the substitutes do not clash with any of the other ingredients."

Severus nodded. "Examples?"

Shacklebolt thought for a few moments. "Billywig stings and salamander blood, sir."

"Good. Correct. Two points to Gryffindor."

Shacklebolt's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. They would be tiptoeing around him for quite a while.

"Anything else?"

To his surprise, Miss Smith raised her hand hesitantly. "Strength of the ingredient. Sir."

She had never shown any particular flare for potions before, but her comments were insightful, and many of the Gryffindors looked surprised that she had thought of it.

"Good. Now, can you explain it?"

"I'll try, sir. If the ingredient substituted was, say, twice as reactive, or potent as the original ingredient, then half as much would need to be added so that the ingredient would react the same with the rest of the potion."

She was thinking along the right lines, her reasoning was certainly logical. "Is there such a thing as potency? How do substitutions surmount the problem?"

"I don't know, sir."

Well, his job was safe, thank Merlin. This aspect of substitution was seventh year stuff.

""Does anyone? No? Then you all have two feet of writing to do on potency for next lesson."

The rest of the lesson was spent brewing a dreamless sleep potion with one substituted ingredient of an unspecified quantity. The class struggled, as Severus had expected them to, but Miss Smith's potion was among the better ones. She smiled shyly at him as she left the classroom, he nodded in return. The lesson had gone better than he had expected it to, but he had his toughest challenge in the next few days: The Slytherins.

After his last class had left, he took off his heavy teaching robes and began to write a letter to the future inventor of Wolfsbane., Damocles Belby.

Sir,

I understand that you are currently researching a potion to enable a transforming werewolf to suppress the loss of humanity inherent in the change. Enclosed are some notes. You are on the right track, believe me, and I must ask you to take full credit for the work. You are about five years from the breakthrough, and I must ask that you take my research as if it were your own. I expect no credit or accolades for this; in fact you are doing me a great service.

Sincerely,

Severus Snape.

He was just finishing the attached notes when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Sirius, with a plate of food.

"You'll turn into a potions hermit" he teased, putting the food beside his work and pulling up a chair.

"You're going to watch me eat?" Severus enquired curiously.

"You'll forget otherwise. Now eat up before it gets cold."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother." He sighed, rolling his eyes, but he smiled at Sirius anyway, and ate the food, realising how hungry he was. Once he had finished, he bundled up the notes and letter, sealed it and put it in his desk drawer, then stood up and stretched, relishing the cricking of his spine.

"Thank you for the meal, I guess we'd better go and talk to the nice people." He said resignedly. "Besides, I want to teach Harry some more words. He knows 'cauldron' now, and he can almost say 'toadspawn'."

Sirius groaned theatrically as they made their way to the guest quarters. "He's going to be an expert."

"Well, he was pretty darn useless last time round."

"Just like me then" Sirius exclaimed as they walked through the portrait hole.

"Here's the hermit!" He called out to Remus, ignoring Severus' glare.

"Hey there, how was teaching? Turn any of them into toads?" Remus was sitting cross legged in the middle of their cosy living room, rolling a ball for Harry, which he rolled back, a look of comical concentration on his face.

"Three. And one lizard."

Sirius and Severus joined Harry on the floor. Harry waved happily to Severus, and pushed the brightly coloured ball to him.

"Ball!" he announced imperiously. Severus pushed it back, and Harry sent it to Sirius. Severus was struck with an idea. When his turn came, he gathered a wisp of magic and _pushed_ at the ball with it.

"Show off" Sirius joked, but Harry was frowning slightly. He pushed the ball back to Severus.

"Ball!" was said with a commanding tone this time. Severus repeated the action, finding Harry's focus at such a young age unnerving.

Harry frowned once more at the ball, and Severus felt a tiny current of magic push the ball to roll a short distance. He grinned; pleased his suspicions were proved correct.

Remus and Sirius were both wide-eyed. "This can't have happened the first time around." Sirius said, sounding awed.

"No, it didn't, but I've always wondered at Harry's propensity for strong accidental magic."

"Non-accidental magic, at that age. Even among purebloods, that's unheard of." Remus was frowning. "That amount of strength…"

Severus sighed. "It needs training and control. But better this than for him to cause damage with it. We'll monitor it; keep an eye on it for now. Play these games sometimes, but let him stay a kid for as long as it's fair to."

The 'kid in question was currently staring intently at the ball. Again he _pushed _at the ball, and this time it rolled a longer distance. He crowed happily, then gave a little yawn.

"He's worn himself out." Sirius commented softly.

"So have I" Remus remarked with a weary smile. Sirius summoned up a battered armchair which Remus got into gratefully. Severus leaned back against one of the arms with a sigh.

"I hadn't realised what a strain this would be." Severus commented honestly.

"A strain how?" Remus asked, getting into what Severus had always called 'sympathy mode'; ready to listen, to advise. It had been one of the things he had envied Sirius when he was stuck in Grimmauld Place last time around. Remus would always listen to him, always comfort. No one had comforted Severus. They used words like 'duty', but didn't offer him a cup of tea and some sympathy.

"Teaching. Having everyone tiptoe around me, expect me to be horrible. It's tempting to live down to their expectations. I had been overoptimistic about returning a new person, a phoenix from the metaphorical ashes." Severus' tone was wryly self-mocking. He was able to think of himself as young and foolish while still being young and foolish, and that was another thing to get around, too.

"You can still be horrible," Sirius said comfortingly, leaning against the other chairleg. "Only this time, you can be horrible to the people you want to be horrible to. Unless those people are me and Moony. And then, you can't."

"Glad we've got that one sorted." Severus remarked, earning himself a pat on the head from Remus.

Harry crawled over to Severus, then climbed into his lap without invitation, settling there, thumb in mouth. "If it were anyone else…" Severus said gruffly, but Sirius chuckled and muttered something about 'sentimental in his young age'. He sighed, and stroked Harry's shock of messy black hair.

"I guess you're a cuddly sort of person." Sirius began, but Severus was deprived of the opportunity to show precisely how uncuddly he was, when there were voices outside the portrait hole.

"How am I expected to get a child to sleep in that ruckus, Headmaster? And Bill has homework to do!" Molly Weasley sounded worn out.

"I'm sure we can find you an oasis of peace somewhere, my dear." Dumbledore, calm as ever, stepped into the room with Molly, a fretful Ginny and a mortified looking Bill, who was clutching textbooks and parchment, whilst appearing very interested in the carpet.

"Oh, sorry, are we disturbing you?" Molly asked, making a move to leave the room.

"I'm sure they don't mind, do you, gentlemen?" Dumbledore put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Of course not, I am perhaps the greatest supporter of academic diligence this school has known!" Sirius declared, with a wink at Molly.

"You even came close to picking up a book on a few occasions" Severs deadpanned. Sirius nodded solemnly.

"It was touch and go a few times, but I resisted."

Bill was by now giggling, earlier embarrassment forgotten.

"Sirius Orion Black, you're supposed to be setting an example!" Molly's hands were on her hips, as if Sirius were one of her brood. Sirius was used to this. He grinned.

"I'm a cautionary tale; Remus and Severus are more than enough example."

As if for the first time, Bill noticed the notorious potions master, sitting on the floor in his shirtsleeves with a baby in his lap. His jaw dropped in shock. Remus was shaking with suppressed laughter, and Sirius covered a grin with one hand. Even Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling a lot more than usual.

"What's wrong, Bill dear?" She followed his gaze, and her jaw dropped too. Dumbledore took this opportunity to leave the room.

"I have been known to remove my robes, occasionally." Severus drawled.

They both shut their mouths.

"Am I to expect this sort of thing a lot?" Severus asked, annoyed.

"I'm afraid so." Remus still had laughter in his voice, but, once more, he patted Severus on the head.

Bill found a table and started to work, and Molly was just about to sit down with Ginny, when she started crying, a full-blown, siren type crying.

"Quite a set of lungs" he murmured to Sirius, who nodded with a wince. Harry started to stir and whimper.

Molly sat down, rocking Ginny. "Please, not again, you little terror! I've fed you, winded you, changed you, sung to you, what now?" She looked close to tears. Not sure if it would work, Severus sent a blue bell of light to hover over Ginny. His mother, when his father was away, would often play this game with him as a small child; he had found the colours restful.

She stopped crying, gazing, enthralled at the globe. Pleased it had worked, Severus sent threads of silver to wrap around the globe, and set it spinning. She stayed quiet, fascinated by the coalescing, shimmering threads.

Molly sat back with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Severus." He nodded in acknowledgement. Harry, having ascertained that nothing was wrong, had gone back to sleep.

"Cool as a cucumber," Sirius marvelled.

"Well, shall we put him to bed?" Remus asked quietly, stretching.

Taking care not to jog Harry, he picked him up.

He was sleeping in the same room as Remus and Sirius, between the two single beds so that he was protected. Severus put him into the cot and tucked him up, smoothing his hair from the scar.

"Sweet dreams, Harry" he whispered quietly, then, saying goodnight to Remus and Sirius, made his way down to his quarters.

As he was walking through the corridors, he felt a prickling between his shoulder blades that he had learnt not to ignore. Slowly, so as not to alert his follower, he drew his wand, keeping his senses alert and open.

He got about a split second's warning to dodge just before the severing curse hissed through the air, catching his arm as he hit the wall, spun around, and delivered a lightning quick body binder curse. He turned around and walked to his would-be killer, rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He half expected to see a vengeful Death Eater, or a vigilante Auror, but knew really. It was one of his own house, a seventh year. Martin Jugson, a boy who would later join the Death Eaters in the second rise of Voldemort, who had, last time around, attempted to persuade Severus to get the Slytherins to rise up and try and find Voldemort. A boy who, later as a man, would accidentally be killed at the attack on Hogwarts. A stubborn, recalcitrant bully, who held onto every one of Voldemort's ideal and teachings, enjoying the tortures with a fanaticism that would have made him a favourite of Voldemort's, had he not been so unsubtle and erratic.

Severus removed his wand, and paced menacingly around his prone form.

"Shoddy" he snarled. "Your trailing skills are abysmal, stealth nonexistent, discretion negligible, stupidity boundless. You used a messy, traceable curse, and forgot just what you are dealing with. So, tell me, what possessed you to try and kill me?"

He undid the bodybind on Jugson's head, but the boy stayed silent, face expressionless. _Predictable._ He thought scornfully.

"I don't think that you sufficiently understand the gravity of the situation. Or how much pain I can inflict upon you." He said silkily, and, seeing the slight flinch, pressed home his advantage. "And believe me, _I will not hesitate to do so_. I am not a kind man, boy." He softened his tone, making it almost friendly. "So, why did you do it?"

"I will say nothing, traitor!" The boy spat, defiant.

"So it's because I'm a traitor?" Severus enquired mildly.

"Yes! You betrayed our house, our honour, you collaborated with halfbreeds and monsters, you are a disgrace! There are others who think so, others who want you dead, so watch your back, scum!"

"Well, I think that's about enough nothing to be going along with." He said briskly, and undid the body bind, hauling the boy up and holding him with a grip of steel.

"Where are you taking me?" Some sense must have penetrated Jugson's thick skull, because he sounded scared.

"Silence." He hissed, steering the boy through the corridors, grip inexorable. There was no way the boy could escape. He took him through winding passageways to the room he had found quite by chance as a fifth year. He doubted even the marauders knew about its existence. It was a small, bare room, with no windows, only a chair and a bed. It was far removed from the rest of the castle, he could shout all he wanted, but with no result.

"Sit." He commanded.

The boy remained standing, glaring in defiance.

A wave of Severus' wand had him sprawled on the bed, glaring.

"Can't you get laid any other way?" He sneered, curling up defensively.

"I like my partners older, better looking and willing." He answered, sitting down in the wooden chair.

"Now, are you going to talk?"

He stayed mute.

"Very well, you shall remain here until you do so. Confined."

"But- but you can't do that! I have rights, I-"

"Ah yes. Those rights that allow you to attempt murder without repercussion? Idiot. You threw away you rights. And now, you're mine. As is _my_ right. To do whatever I please with."

He stood up, performed an Unbreakable charm on the bed and chair, and cushioning charms on the walls. There was no way the brat was going to get out of this room, dead or alive. He left him there, and walked back to his rooms.

It was only when he noticed the pink of the water running down his body in the shower that he remembered his wound. He hissed when he saw how deep it was. Had he not dodged…

They really wanted him dead. Not scared, or warned, but dead. He swore as he felt the soap penetrate the wound, but cleaned it anyway. It bloody _hurt_! Once out of the shower, he healed it, leaving a faint puffy scar. Nothing to trouble Poppy with.

He poured himself a tumbler of whiskey, and sat down nursing it, scowling blackly, as he thought about what the hell he was going to do. Torturing him…now that was a simple thing, he had done it before…

He had been sick afterwards, once the other Death Eaters had left, and he had the blood on his hands and arms, and the screams echoing in his ears. He had been a skilled torturer, efficient. It hadn't stopped him from having nightmares, but it was possible to do so again.

Veritaserum…brewable, but illegal.

Legelimency…

He imagined Dumbledore's sad gaze, his disappointment, and swore once more, flinging the tumbler at the fireplace, where it shattered, breaking the still silence of the room. Weary, angry, he sank his head into his hands. This was going to be a long night…

A/N

Barbarataku: And lo, truly was Llassah hoisted up on her own petard and forced to eat humble pie and any other metaphor for being proved wrong in a rather pleasant way. My profuse apologies, noble barbarataku, whoever you may be, and I thank you for following my rather snarky request. Hee hee hee.


	5. Chapter 5

He must have slept that night, because he woke up with a furry mouth, a throbbing headache and a feeling of crumpledness that prompted him to take another shower, this time a punishingly freezing one that woke him up completely, giving him no choice but to face up to the situation and his choices.

"Sodding reality" he grumbled, shivering in the icy water. "Give me a fuzzy head any day."

He shaved, trying not to look at his white face and shadowed, troubled eyes. He looked vulnerable, young. Scowling helped, as did narrowing his eyes. Then he realised that making faces in the mirror probably made him seem younger. He stopped, and tied his hair back, put on his most severe, formal robes, and left the room. It was time to _do_ something.

_Time to tackle my darling little vipers._ He thought, smiling a little at the thought.

He was late for breakfast, meaning that all of the students and the Order refugees were sat down when he entered the hall. Taking care not to meet anyone's eyes, he swept up to the High table, thanking his stars that there was a spare seat next to Dumbledore. The hall was silent. Once he sat down and made it clear he had no great announcement to make, hushed, gossiping chatter started up again.

"Severus, what is the matter?"

He pitched his voice low so that only Severus could hear. Severus replied in a similar tone. "An attempt was made on my life last night by a student of the school. I am treating it as an in-house matter. I am withdrawing my house from lessons for the day."

Dumbledore gave away none of his feelings. "And the student?"

Severus read what he had left unsaid. _How had he dealt with him?_

"Unharmed, in solitary confinement. Last time round, he was a Death Eater. I'd like to nip this in the bud now. His capacity for murder troubles me, and with Pettigrew still on the loose…"

Dumbledore nodded. "I give you leave to do what you think necessary, Severus. Good luck."

That degree of trust…

"Thank you, sir."

He finished his breakfast, drinking three cups of coffee, ignoring McGonagall's disapproving look. He then stood up and waited for quiet, sweeping his gaze around the room.

"Slytherin. You are withdrawn from lessons for the day. You will go to the Common Room after breakfast. _There will be no exceptions made._ This is an in-house matter. The Headmaster will be taking my potions classes. Assignments and essays will be handed to him. Understood?"

As one, they said "Yes, Professor Snape." He nodded once, coldly, and swept out of the room. A few looked worried, Miss Smith was speaking concernedly to one of her friends, Sirius was being restrained from going to Severus by Remus, and others in the Order were frowning. Some seventh year Slytherins were smirking to one another, but stopped when they saw his glare. Many Slytherins looked shifty, furtive. For some reason, Severus was reminded rather forcefully of a can of worms.

8-8-8-8-8-8

Jugson ignored him as he entered the room. It didn't look as if he had slept at all, which was foolish in the extreme. Severus sat in the wooden chair, and produced a bottle of firewhiskey and two tumblers. He poured a generous measure of liquid for himself, then offered Jugson one. Predictably, he refused. Severus ignored him, and sipped at the firewhiskey, aware of Jugson's every shift, every movement.

"I want some firewhiskey." He said abruptly. Raising an eyebrow, Severus poured him a tumbler full and handed it to him. He then took a muggle lighter and a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"Smoking's bad for you, you know." Jugson told him almost primly. Severus snorted.

"So's attacking an ex-Death Eater." He replied, amused at Jugson's caution. "Besides, lung-cleaning charms clear up the damage. As far as self destructiveness goes, smoking's a bit of a cop-out, no matter what pretentious adolescent wizards would have you know."

Jugson frowned. "So smoking doesn't do wizards damage?"

Severus shook his head. "Not a bit. Just another one of the lies the world tells you. It's rather like blowing bubbles for us. It's still not a nice habit, but it's harmless. And the purebloods hate it, because it was invented by muggles."

"Oh. Could I have one please?"

Severus gave him one, and watched him struggle with the lighter for half a minute, before finally managing it.

"Why d'you have muggle things, anyway?" Jugson was starting to slur slightly, his face was flushed, eyes bright.

Severus gave it some thought. "I suppose it was a sort of rebellion, when I was sixteen or so, playing the pureblood card and using muggle items."

"Typical." Jugson murmured almost to himself. "You were a hero to us, you know." He started, conversationally, taking a gulp of the firewhiskey. Severus stayed very still, afraid to break the mood. Jugson scooted over to the foot of the bed so he was opposite Snape and leant against the wall. "You were our route to The Dark Lord; you would recommend those who were worthy to be in His service. Our recruiter, our path to glory. We would all try to emulate you." He laughed bitterly, not noticing Severus' shock. "When the Dark Lord fell, we looked to you for leadership and guidance. But you offered none. You ignored those of us who were drifting, unsure, scared. Then the rumours started to circulate about you. You abandoned us! You didn't even bother to fight the Aurors who came and took you to Azkaban! You didn't give a fuck about _your own house! _Of course, we still thought it was a plan. You were duping that muggle loving idiot, surely you had to be the next Dark Lord, blackest of his angels, most powerful supporter and all that. But you weren't."

Severus tried to stop his hand from shaking. "I was a spy." To have influence so many! The first time round, if he had been a bit clearer, would his Slytherins have joined Voldemort? Had he betrayed them all for the sake of a few scraps of information? Yes. He had. He had condemned them all.

"You betrayed us." A tear trickled down Jugson's cheek; he was in the overemotional stage of drunkenness.Severus had heard enough. In whiskey veritas...

A sobering charm, shaving charm and some cleansing charms meant that Jugson looked none the worse for wear as he walked down the corridor in Severus' grip.

"You will sit alone. You will not contact any of the other Slytherins. You will come with me at the end of the meeting. Clear?"

Jugson nodded sullenly. "You tricked me." He said accusingly.

"Yes. And?" Somehow, Severus couldn't quite bring himself to feel guilty. He had allowed himself to be tricked really. Besides, served the idiot right. It was for that reason that an anti hangover charm hadn't been one of the spells he had performed on Jugson.

The common room was full. All were silent, apprehensive. He scanned the room. A few avoided his gaze, many of the Slytherins who would later become Death Eaters. Jugson sat down at the front, and folded his arms glaring.

"Some of you might be awake enough to guess why you are here. For the rest of you, I shall explain. It's about this."

Severus pulled up his sleeve, baring his forearm, hearing gasps from some of the first years.

"The Dark Mark. Sign of Voldemort, one of the biggest threats to scare the wizarding world. I suppose your parents knew I was a Death Eater. Even those who have remained neutral were aware of my status. The Dark Lord's most loyal, reliable supporter, his lieutenant. Feared by many of the Death Eaters, a story to scare small children with. I rather fooled you all didn't I? You thought I had been lying to Dumbledore, you got to laugh behind your hands at him every time you saw that there was a _Death Eater _teaching at Hogwarts, right under the Ministry's nose. But I'm a spy. A double crossing traitor, I gave Voldemort's secrets away. I lived my life not knowing if I would survive to the next day. I pretended to the world, to all of you. And I suppose you feel betrayed by this. I suppose that, even though you don't admit it, many of you wanted Voldemort to survive forever, to continue to hold the wizarding world hostage. You thought you were on the winning side. I saw you, acting like puffed up little peacocks, swaggering around the school with the arrogance of lords. Well, my how things have changed. Voldemort defeated by a child."

"Voldemort has fallen, bringing with him those who were foolish enough to follow him. And, of course, Slytherin provided the most followers. He was 'our greatest Slytherin', the embodiment of all that elevates this noble house. The depotism, the insanity, the rabid prejudice, the cruelty, the lies, the willingness to torture. All these are our bywords. Our shame. And yet what did he promise us? What did he give us in return? _What will he promise you when he rises again? _He will rise again, of course. He'll bide his time for a few years, licking his wounds, until someone becomes desperate enough to find him. And then he will be resurrected, return to his powers, and the Death Eater social club will be restarted. Many of you will join him, of course. I am not going to pretend I can prevent it. But what I will do is give you a few things to think about. I'll give you the insider's view, as it were."

He started to pace, wondering how to do this. "Promises. What did Voldemort offer us?" No one spoke.

"Hmm. You don't know? Liars. I'll tell you, shall I? He offered a return to the 'purity of blood' that he told us was beloved of Salazar Slytherin himself. He promised us glory, the chance to give the world back to wizards. He offered us power, and gave us the permission to misuse it. For some, he was the easy option; it was far simpler to capitulate than to fight such power. He gathered together bully and bullied, conformist and misfit, the weak and the strong, the priveleged and the needy. And we believed him. We believed that the halfblood could give us racial supremacy, he took the world from us while pretending to give it, we believed as he sapped our power that he was making us strong."

"What did he give us? The cruciatus curse, blood on our hands, the screams echoing in our ears, and, for some, a guilt that no amount of penance can ever assuage. Perhaps you like to kill. Perhaps you will enjoy torturing. Perhaps you won't mind that those you kill have committed no greater sin than having the wrong parents. But you can't get out of the Death Eaters. You don't hand in your resignation, unless you fancy being tortured and killed. Regulus Black tried to quit. Many of you knew him. He died, alone and friendless. He had thought it was what he wanted. If you do decide to join, you'd better have a damn good reason to. _You'd better want it completely_."

"Because if you join him, you condemn not only yourself, but this house."

There were angry mutterings from the back.

"Objections, gentlemen?" He asked silkily.

"The Dark Lord was the heir of Slytherin! He wasn't condemning us, he was putting us in our rightful place!" One seventh year had the courage to say. Jugson began to mutter in agreement, Severus cuffed him around the head.

"Silence!" He barked as others began to both agree and argue with him.

"So Voldemort was doing what all Slytherins should, and to join him is the correct thing to do?" He asked, harshly. No one answered. He curled his lip.

"Well, clearly you don't deem bravery to be a trait to cultivate."

"Bravery is for Gryffindors!" A spotty, gangly youth shouted. There were jeers and catcalls. "Loyalty is for Hufflepuffs, brains are for Ravenclaws, and cunning is for Slytherins!"

"That's what you were taught?" Severus asked, arms folded.

"Yes! From the beginning, that's what we've been taught. We are cunning. We are pure."

"Inbred, more like!" Another boy, one of the Zabinis, muttered. There were hisses at this, wands were drawn.

"The first person to even _think_ a spell will have their wands shoved so far in they have to _swallow_ to get them out!" Severus snarled. The boys replaced their wands, wincing.

"So we are shrewd. Cunning. We will do what benefits us. Am I correct?"

They all nodded.

"So, tell me, how exactly is throwing in your lot with a half-blood lunatic who is as likely to kill his allies as his enemies, setting yourself against all of the other houses, and condemning yourself to imprisonment in Azkaban benefiting us?"

"Now, you can go off and do whatever the hell you like. Have a ball. Knock yourself out. Take the mark if you wish. But don't do it under any sort of illusion. Don't allow yourself to be led into it blind. Because, ironically, the greatest thing that you will learn from any of these lessons in school is to think for yourself. Now the rest of the day you have to yourselves. You are to think. Consider. Research. Have meetings if you wish. But from each and every person, I want two feet of honest writing with your opinions and research within it, about the role of Slytherin as a house both in Hogwarts and the wider world, to be done by this evening. I am keeping this an in house matter. No punishment will be incurred for what you write, so long as it is thought out. Any fighting, however, will be dealt with severely. Do I make myself clear?"

They nodded. Jugson followed him as he swept out of the room.

"You will not mention this incident to anyone. If you do, I _will_ find out, and the restraint I have exhibited so far will be absent. You will complete the essay, as everyone else has to. Now take your wand, and go. Oh, and Jugson?"

He turned around, expression wary.

"A hundred points from Slytherin." He snarled, relishing the surprise and anger on Jugson's face. He would enjoy their meeting when he was no longer a student…

A/N- Bill Weasley was doing homework for primary school, what with him only being 11, and not having gone up yet (November 29th, darn plot holes)…Ahem, I had got my sums wrong, but it doesn't matter too terribly. Slaps self on wrist

There have been comments about Severus's OOC ness. I hope this chapter gives him some of his snark back. However, I do feel that the metaphorical boot Severus has received up the backside will have a bearing on his character. And we have seen the damaged misfit, and the bitter, cruel professor, but we haven't seen him in between. And so who is to say that Severus is OOC? Hmm? I will pay more attention to the sarcasm, however. Never you fear, my liddle rutabagas.


	6. Chapter 6

So many essays to mark…It was his own fault for setting the darn things, but that did nothing to diminish the scowl on his face. Besides, it was fun to see how quickly he could make the first years scurry away with a single venomous look. And so, he strode through the corridors, robes billowing behind him, relishing the glorious feeling of malevolence that scaring people still gave him, trivial though the pleasure was. He had never pretended to be anything other than petty. He had relinquished his hold on so many grudges, and he was damn well going to cling on to the ones he had remaining.

Grudges…Severus climbed through the portrait hole to their living quarters, making an effort to leave his scowl at the door. Harry was fretful enough without him agitating him at the moment…Music greeted him as he entered the room. Music played on a piano. Severus stood in the doorway, afraid to disturb the scene he was witnessing. Sirius, Harry sat on his knee, was playing a swinging lullaby on a battered looking upright piano. The cracked tone of some of the keys added a lopsided air to the melody, and Severus found himself lulled by it as Harry seemed to be. Black was good. Very good. His hands spanned the octaves and chords easily, and he seemed to be making a good deal of it up, crooning softly in a husky voice that was not unpleasant. "So hush, little baby, don't you cry" he sang. The song ended. In another life, in another family, he could have been famous by now; his playing was surely professional standard.

Here, though, he was playing to soothe, not for money. Harry's face was tearstained, green eyes sleepy as he nestled against Sirius' chest, and, judging by the slight shudder as he drew in breaths, the crying fits had been hard. Remus was with Damocles Belby helping him with tests, and Sirius had been looking after Harry for the whole day. No wonder he looked so tired.

Harry had been fretful for the past few days, crying frequently for no visible reason. They had been afraid he was in pain, sick, but Madam Pomfrey examined him and could find nothing physically wrong with him. Remus had sighed, resigned, as Sirius and Severus had racked their brains for answers.

"It's as I had suspected then." He had said to Pomfrey, rubbing a hand over his face, tired. "He's not crying out of need, he's crying for his pack- well, his parents. It's the sound cubs make, when they want their dam and sire."

Sirius had left the room, tears in his eyes, and Severus had been left there, standing awkwardly with no clue of how to help an infant to understand that his parents were dead. "What can we do?" he had asked Remus, hoping for something to say, some formula, some spell, to get through this. Remus had just shrugged, tawny eyes filled with some old sadness. And so Harry had cried frequently when he wasn't distracted by one of them, and Severus had found himself doing the most extraordinarily undignified things for his entertainment. He had been tempted to obliviate Remus and Sirius, to prevent this ever becoming public knowledge, but as it was, the two of them kept on making veiled allusions to Flamingos, which he had a job not to blush at.

Sirius spotted him and gave him a weary smile. "Shall I take him for a bit?" Sirius nodded, the look in his eyes grateful. Severus crossed the room, scooped Harry up gently and flopped into the nearest armchair. Harry was relaxed, worn out, and gazed around the room sleepily, ever curious. His hair clung to his forehead, not quite hiding his scar. Severs frowned. Its presence, here on the face of a child with eyes that were not wary, and a smile that was not guarder, was peculiar. He would grow into it, of course, and it would become a part of him. It was just a question of how…

"What are you thinking?" Sirius asked, sounding curious.

"Just wondering how he'll grow up. How his face will grow into his scar." Severus said, thinking of the defiant, wounded boy he had hated so. Sirius frowned, confused.

"But surely it's just scar." He swung so that he was straddling the piano stool, facing Severus.

"It's a symbol. That scar will become his symbol, a thing of hope and, later, fear. His battle standard will be a Phoenix with a bolt of lightning in its claws. The Dark Mark and the Lightning mark would often jostle high above the battlefield." He smiled slightly, remembering how the phoenix soared above the skull, how people would cheer when they saw it, before the time when all turned to ashes.

Sirius shivered. "It sounds incredible." He said quietly, a light in his grey eyes.

"It was. It was the most terrible, thrilling thing. They would conjure it after aDeath Eaterattack had been thwarted. Voldemort hated it so much he would be in a foul mood even if there was a _storm_ and lightning appeared. He'd scream at the lightning like a madman." Severus was torn between laughing and shuddering at the memory.

"Do you know how they made it?" There was such longing, such eagerness in Sirius' voice that Severus found himself drawing out his wand, wondering when he had become willing to do things people asked, rather than refusing, to spite them.

"Phoenix Fulgurãlis" he intoned clearly.

A gold light swirled out of his wand, coalescing into a phoenix, mid-flight, claws grasping a silver bolt of lightning. Severus' hackles rose as the shimmering bird gave a fierce battle cry that echoed around the room, and he could almost _see_ the battlefield in his mind, smell the blood and the smoke, hear the roars, the groans of the dying. It flew around the room, flickers of flame marking its path, then stopped in front of Harry, who gazed at it, thumb in mouth, unafraid. There was a long moment of suspension as boy stared at phoenix, then it touched one wingtip to its forehead in a solemn salute. Severus was almost afraid to breathe, lest he disturb the majesty of the moment. Just when he thought he could take no more tension, it melted away, leaving only a pile of ashes.

"Merlin." Sirius breathed, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. "And look at Harry, he's as cool as a cucumber! It's going to take a lot to scare him."

"It does." Severus remarked with a smile. "He gets into the most absurd scrapes, for precisely that reason." It was strange, considering how his other self had felt, to hear the note of pride in his voice at Harry's rule breaking. "But it wasn't pranks; it was single-handedly trying to rescue the school."

Sirius frowned. "Wasn't Dumbledore-"

"It wasn't that there was a lack of anyone able to protect the school, it was that Harry had never depended on anyone to look after him and his safety. To the end, he only relied on himself."

"Gods, poor kid." Sirius breathed, sympathy in his eyes.

"It wasn't as if either of us trusted anyone either, when we were kids." Severus said candidly. Sirius looked up at him, surprised. Severus shrugged. "We were alike, in a few ways." He admitted. "And besides, this time around, things will be different." Sirius nodded, fervently, and each sat for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

"So where did you get the piano?" Severus asked, curious. It was a battered old piano, with yellowed keys and once-bright flowers painted on the front where the sheet music rested, a sign that it had seen glory days, once upon a time. It was hardly the sort of instrument a pureblooded son of the House of Black would play. Of course, the music wasn't either.

When pureblooded children were five or so, the 'memory' of certain pieces was put magically into their fingers, so they could play them perfectly. At a price. Only pureblooded wizard composers were chosen, and the Blacks only allowed Bach and Mozart to be taught, as the other composers, like Beethoven, were deemed to be too emotional, too wild. And to be playing a muggle form of jazz…

Sirius grinned wickedly. "Here, my friend, you have my first rebellion, and my most treasured worldly possession"

Severus sat back in his armchair, settling Harry in the crook of his arm. He knew a story when he heard one.

"When I was taught the piano, in the usual pureblooded manner" here a curl of his lips betrayed the old hate of his family "I loved it. I started to play it with far more frequency than was decorous, and, at five, I didn't know about secrecy and discretion. My dear mother" His eyes darkened, and the sarcasm rolled rich off his tongue "locked up the piano, and when I asked where it was, sent me to Kreacher for a beating, which the house elf performed with his usual competence. And so, for the first time, I ran away. I found myself out alone on the streets of London, completely lost. To make matters worse, a storm came, one of those beautiful British bruisers where the raindrops are the size of hen's eggs. Running for shelter, I saw a broken window on one of the buildings, and I climbed through it to escape the wet, my size and eagerness making it easy."

Sirius paused, and Severus found himself leaning forward in his seat, willing him to continue. Sirius was a master storyteller, and much of his youthful brashness had been worn off by the sadness that the war had brought to him, and Severus could understand why he was so popular, so liked, without feeling the old resentful scorn. "The building I was in was an old theatre, one of the repertory sorts, with a small stage and faded russet curtains. Full of dust and cobwebs, but with a sort of magic about it. And on the stage, half in shadows, was a piano. This piano, in fact." Sirius patted it affectionately. "I had to play it, just had to, I thought it the most beautiful thing in the world. I walked towards it, as if in a dream, then-"

"Then what?" Severus hung on his every word, somehow _needing_ to know what had happened.

"Then, just as I was climbing the steps up to the stage, I was intercepted by Lucius Malfoy, then 18, who was visiting the house and had been sent out to find me. I earned myself a beating with that poncy cane he insisted on nancing about with even then." Severus sniggered at the expression Sirius had assumed, which was an uncanny imitation of Malfoy's haughty sneer.

"Did you return?"

"Of course. Whenever I could. And then, when I ran away for the last time, I transfigured the piano into a pendant of a-"

"Treble clef," Severus finished, relishing Sirius' surprise. "You grab it whenever you are upset, for comfort."

"Why did you watch me?" There was no spite in the question. Sirius had asked the question often when they were at Hogwarts, with a disdainful sneer and insinuation. This time, Severus answered.

"At first it was because I was curious about you, and wanted to be your friend. Then the curiosity became jealousy, the jealousy became hate, and the hate became a desire to kill you." There seemed little point in denying that. Sirius wasn't stupid.

"And now? How do you feel?"

Severus thought. "The last time around, I saw what happened to you, and realised that there was little point in hating you. You were only a man, you were only someone I had wasted my time hating. Now I've left that behind. I've had to."

"You miss it." Sirius stated, shrewd.

"It sustained me for a good few years. Now it isn't animosity and spite that drives me."

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure yet." He shrugged. But a small knowing voice in his mind that he had never quite managed to suppress whispered the answer. Love. He acknowledged the voice, but kept the small melting in his heart a secret, to be taken out an examined in private, to warm him in loneliness. Harry stirred slightly, and whimpered in his sleep, chubby fist reaching for something. Not again. Severus wondered how on earth Sirius had lasted the day. Sirius, meanwhile, had stood up, looking tired but resigned.

"I'll see what I can do." He said, but Severus shook his head.

"You're done in. I'll take him this time." Sirius moved to protest, but Severus silenced him with a glare that brooked no protest. He sat down on the chair Severus had vacated.

"Aren't you worn out from teaching?" Sirius said as a last-ditch protest.

"Ah, but Harry's cleverer than my students." Severus replied, only half joking. "I'll go for a walk with him, give you some peace." He left the room, wondering how long Sirius would stay awake after he had left. As he walked, Severus resolved to solve this once and for all. He had to find some way of stopping Harry wondering why his parents were gone, to let him know that they would never see him again. It was unfair to expect Sirius or Remus to do it, and this state of affairs couldn't continue forever. If only he had the faintest idea of what to do with children…

He started crying in earnest as Severus reached the Great Hall, and his wails echoed eerily in the empty space.

Severus resisted the urge to swear, and continued to bounce him up and down gently, murmuring words of comfort that were probably complete and utter drivel.

"Problems, Severus?"

Severus jumped, and turned around. He must have been getting rusty, as no one was usually able to take him by surprise like that. He resisted the urge to employ sarcasm, or push Dumbledore away. "I know nothing about children. Nothing! So communicating the most difficult concept to one of them is hardly going to be the simplest thing ever." He said over the noise Harry was producing. Dumbledore merely smiled, a rock of calm in the storm. Severus wondered if he had always been this unflappable. Had he had teenage strops? Did he ever write bad poetry to his newest Great Love's eyebrow? He had probably had that beard even them. The image made Snape very glad that he was good at occulomency.

"Things are as simple or complicated as you make them, dear boy. Occam's razor."

Severus thought through his learning, but drew a blank. Seeing his befuddlement, Dumbledore clarified. "The simplest solution usually tends to be the correct one. Tell him the truth. Keeping things from him is unwise, as you learnt in your other life." Severus nodded emphatically. It had been a thing he had told Dumbledore most forcefully. "I'll take him. I assume you want to do some pacing." Wondering if he was really that transparent, Severus handed Harry to Dumbledore, and, immediately, he quieted. Typical. Leaving Dumbledore to play grandfather, he thought.

To tell a child his parents were dead. How would that be understood? 'The next great adventure', death. An irreversible, insurmountable obstacle. Not a thing to tax an infant's mind with. What was it that the other Harry had called it? Popping into the next room. With a reckless bravery that all he had faced and endured had not extinguished, Harry had flung himself headlong into death. As if it was just another place to go.

"_Mother, where do you go when you are dead?"_

_She had looked at him from the washing up and thought for a few moments. "You go to heaven." She answered simply. _

_But Severus, with his insatiable curiosity that was seldom allowed in his house with his father, wanted more. "Where is that?" _

"_In the sky." _

_Satisfied, Severus had left her alone then, and sat up in his bedroom window, looking up at the stars. So when he died, he could look down on the things he had left behind. He was glad. There was a tree in his garden that he loved watching change through the seasons. Death would not be so bad if he had that to look at…_

Severus smiled slightly, face illuminated by the light of the moon. Wordlessly, Dumbledore handed Harry over to him. Feeling foolish, Severus pointed up to the ceiling. "Your mother and father had to leave you with us, to keep you safe." He said softly. "They still love you, very much, but they went away. But if you look up into the sky, at the stars, you'll see them, shining brightly, watching over you. And they will always be there, taking care of you." Something of his speech much have made sense to Harry, because he gazed up at the clear, starfilled sky, no longer crying, seeming comforted by it. As Severus stood, and held him. He felt his little head droop down onto his shoulder, and soon he was snuffling slightly in sleep.

As he stared up at the ceiling, thinking about safety, and how much of it that Harry had been deprived of, an idea occurred to him. Turning to face Dumbledore, he folded his arms.

"Hogwarts is the safest place in the world, isn't it? I mean, it's kept Voldemort out before now, and has power and resources beyond our comprehension." The wizard nodded. Severus pressed on. "So if it's so safe, couldn't Potter- I mean, James and Lily Potter have stayed at Hogwarts indefinitely?"

Dumbledore sighed, his blue eyes without their twinkle. There was a solemn look on his face. "Yes. They could." Severus hissed angrily.

"Why the hell didn't they? Why throw away protection like that? It's insane! They were practically inviting Voldemort to kill them! And they knew about the prophecy! Why gamble away their son's life like that?" Stupid, selfish Potter, with a beautiful wife and child, throwing it all away for some cheap thrill! Gifted with so much and treating it so casually. Hate that the other Snape had carried in his heart for so long reawakened, and a blackness crept into his heart.

As Dumbledore looked into his eyes, Severus saw that he had noticed this, but there was no condemnation on his face. His voice was still gentle, but there was a slight steel edge to his voice that Severus knew better than to ignore. "How many more would have been killed? How much would Voldemort have achieved? How invincible would he have become? James and Lily- They knew the risks, and they decided that, for the greater good, they should put themselves at risk. Lily knew that human sacrifice could work a magic more powerful than the killing curse." Severus sneered.

"The greater good. They put Harry's head on the chopping block, their own son, and for what?"

Dumbledore stood straighter, and Severus glared at him. There was an aura of power around him now, and his face was etched into sterner lines than he had seen before. "For the wizarding world. For love. Because, sometimes, it is duty. And don't you dare sneer, Severus Snape! Because in under two decades, you are going to make a far greater sacrifice for the greater good. Don't pretend that you don't understand the need to give! It can't hurt you to have people see that you do have a heart after all." Severus realised his mouth was hanging open. He had never heard Dumbledore speak so bluntly to anyone before.

What he said next, though, gave Severus even more pause for thought. "Besides, Lily seemed sure when I last spoke to her that Harry would be loved and brought up in a way that would make her proud. 'Second time lucky' were her words. And when I questioned her further, she just smiled mysteriously." Severus raised an eyebrow. Which one of them had done the meddling this time? Who had told her that Severus would change things the second time around? It was another thing to raise with Snape next time he visited. Not that Severus was worried yet. He would know what to do when the time came. For the moment, there was a comforting weight in his arms, of an infant who looked to him for protection. And even if he did turn out to be a terrible parent, he would damn well do everything in his power to protect him.

Before he went to sleep that night, Severus thought of two boys, each black haired, each damaged, each vulnerable and so very _young_ making those steps towards the piano. One was in and old disused theatre, where the laughter of audiences past seemed suspended in the dusty silence, one was in the front parlour of a little terraced house, shut up as usual, an exciting, forbidden territory. This boy walked towards it, opened the lid, pressed an eager finger to one of the keys, hearing the sweet, pure ripple of sound. The sound that moved his father to drag him from the room, too furious to speak, his protests falling on deaf ears as he received the worst beating of his five years. Later, Severus would learn that his time in a Prisoner of War camp in Japan had turned his father from the music he had loved so much, left him unable to use his hands properly, left him a bitter shell of a man for whom life held little pleasure. Now he knew only that music was forbidden to him, and felt a hardening of his heart, another step to Voldemort.

A/N My apologies both for the delay and the Latin. I have been writing, but Real Life and all its accompanying pitfalls gave me a few sharp kicks in the backside. The Latin? I cannot excuse it, so please correct me if you know what 'Phoenix of Lightning' should be. Will be writing more now I have the leisure. Merry Christmas! xxx By the way, the song is 'Summertime', by George Gershwin


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